Welcome to Berk
by mattjdupree
Summary: A friendly island community where the days are cold, the sunsets are beautiful, and dragon fire warms our homes while we all pretend to sleep. Life in Berk post HTTYD1, but pre HTTYD2, according to the village crier Cecil. Possible spoilers for Welcome to NightVale Ep.s 1 & 2. Enjoy! - Twoshot, unless overruled by popular demand.
1. 1 - Pilot

A friendly island community where the days are cold, the sunsets are beautiful, and dragon fire warms our homes while we all pretend to sleep.

Welcome, to Berk.

-WtB-

Hello listeners.

Before we begin, I've been asked to read this brief notice. The village chief would like to announce the construction of a new metallic structure in the village square. He would like to remind everyone that Dragons are not allowed on the metallic structure. People are not allowed on the metallic structure. You may see bolts of lightning strike the structure. Do not approach them. Do not approach the metallic structure. It may store a portion of the lightning, and is highly dangerous. Do not approach the structure and especially do not look for any period of time at the structure during a storm.

The metallic structure will not harm you.

-WtB-

And now the news. Elder Gothi, in the hut on the mountain, says she has taken in a flock of Terrible Terrors. Says they're two feet long each, warm, and one of them was purple. They helped her with various household chores. One of them changed a torch for her, the porch torch. She has been offering to sell the old torch, which has been chewed on by the terror. It was the purple terror if that sweetens the pot for anyone. Interested parties should contact Elder Gothi, she's in the hut on the mountain.

-WtB-

A new man came into town today. Who is he? What does he want from us? Why his perfect and beautiful haircut? Why his perfect and beautiful coat? He says he is a trader. Well, we have all been traders at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here? And just what does he plan to do with all the metal in that warehouse he's renting? The one next to Bucket & Mulch fishing.

Bucket & Mulch. No one catches fish like Bucket & Mulch.

No one.

-WtB-

Just a reminder to all the parents out there: Let's talk about safety when taking your kids out to play with the wild dragons on Berk. You need to give them plenty of water. Make sure there's a cover-rock in the area, and keep an eye on the patrol dragon colors:

Is the ridden dragon circling the area black? Probably Hiccup and Toothless. Not a good area for play that day.

Is it blue? That's Astrid and Stormfly. They'll keep a good eye on your kids and hardly ever punch one.

Is it a Hideous Zippleback ridden by two blonde Vikings? No one knows what the twins will do, or what they want. Do not play in the area. Return to your home and lock the door until the wave of destruction leaves something burning on your front porch, to let you know the worst of the danger has passed. Cover your ears to blot out the screams.

Also, remember, mead is basically honey, so just give your kids plain old water and maybe some bread slices while they play.

-WtB-

A wild Monstrous Nightmare flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear inside the Berk dragon academy during a dragon calming, disrupting training quite badly. The flaming Nightmare flew through the arena for only a fraction of a second, and before it could strike any creatures or structure, it disappeared again: this time - apparently - for good.

There is no word yet on if - or how - this will affect Hiccup's dragon training schedule, or if perhaps this might have been the work of our bitter rivals, the Bezerkers.

The Bezerkers are always trying to show us up through fancier uniforms, better mealtime mead, and perhaps, by transporting a Monstrous Nightmare into our academy, delaying practice for several minutes - at least! For shame Bezerkers, for shame.

-WtB-

That new trader - we now know is named Carlos - called a town meeting. He has a square jaw, and teeth like a Roman cemetery. His hair is perfect, and we all hate, and despair, and love that perfect hair in equal measure. Elder Gothi brought herbal bread which was decent, but lacked salt. She said the Terrors had licked up all her salt, and she hadn't yet gotten around to getting more.

Carlos told us that we are - by far - the most scientifically interesting community in the Barbaric Archipelago, and he's setting up shop until he can figure out just what is going on around here. He smiled, and everything about him was perfect. And I fell… Er, nevermind.

Members of the vague yet menacing village council were in the back watching. I fear for Carlos. I fear for Berk. I fear for anyone caught between what they know, and what they don't yet know that they don't yet know.

-WtB-

We received an air-mail this morning. The Berk Fishermans' Council is proud to announce the opening of the brand new Berk Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area, high on the mountain. I have been to these facilities myself recently on their invitation, and I can tell you that it is absolutely top of the line and beautiful. Sturdy docking areas made from fast-regrowth low-forestation tree harvests, a boardwalk for pedestrians, and plenty of stands ready for local food vendors and merchants to turn into a bustling public marketplace. Now, there is some concern about the fact that, given it was built halfway up a mountain, there is no actual water at the waterfront - and that is a definite drawback, I agree. For instance, the boardwalk is currently overlooking forest and rocks. The Fishermans' council did not provide any specific remedies for this problem, but they assured me that the new harbor would be a big boost to Berk nonetheless. Maybe wait until a warm day increases snowmelt, then head down there for the full waterfront experience.

-WtB-

The Berk dragon academy is selling allegiance statements as a part of their fundraising week. They sent the station one to get some publicity, and we're here to serve the community so I'm happy to let you all know about it. The statements are made from good, sturdy deerskin, and they read, "Dragons Don't Kill People; People Don't Kill Dragons; We Are All Friends Now And It's A Miracle." Stand outside of your front door and shout, "Night Fury! Get Down!" to order one.

-WtB-

Carlos and a few villagers following him around warn that one of the houses in the new development south of the village, above the Great Hall, doesn't actually exist. It seems like it exists, explained Carlos and his perfect hair, like it's just right there when you look at it. And it's between two identical houses, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. But, he says, they have done experiments and it is definitely not there. At news time, the so-called 'scientists' are standing in a group in front of the nonexistent house, daring each other to go knock on the door.

-WtB-

A great howling was heard from the Berk air-mail office yesterday. Terror overseers claim no knowledge, although a passerby described the sound as being a little like a human soul being destroyed through black magic. Mildew - now, I don't know if you've seen this guy around; he's the one who lives outside of town, then shows up wherever the dragons do something mildly irritating and antagonizes them, while wearing garments made out of dragon skin and teeth - he appeared on the scene, and swore that he would discover the truth. No one responded because it's really hard to take him seriously with that staff of his.

-WtB-

Lights, seen in the sky above the village. Not the glowing torches of the village; something higher and beyond that. We know the difference. We've caught onto their game. We understand the lights-above-the-village's game. Invasion from the gods themselves. Ladies and gentlemen, dragons and dragonesses, the future is here, and it's about a hundred paces above the village.

-WtB-

Carlos and his 'scientists' at the warehouse say their 'seismic monitors' have been indicating wild seismic shifts, meaning to say that the ground should be going up and down all over the place. I don't know about you folks, but the ground has been as still as the land controlled by a pantheon of gods in constant pitched battles could be. Carlos says that they've double-checked the monitors and they are in perfect working order. To put it plainly, there appear to be catastrophic earthquakes happening right here on Berk that absolutely no one can feel. Well, submit a home repair support claim anyway, see what you can get, right?

-WtB-

Traffic time, listeners. The academy is issuing a warning about ghost dragons in the skyways, those dragons only visible in the distance, reaching unimaginable speeds, leaving destinations unknown for destinations more unknown. The teens would like to remind you that you should not try to follow these apparitions, and doing so will not be considered proper navigation practices.

However, they do say that it's probably safe to follow the mysterious lights in the sky, as whatever entity or clan responsible appear to be cautious and reasonable fliers.

-WtB-

And now the weather:

Bucket is a functioning member of society today. No storms for at least a week!

-WtB-

Welcome back, listeners.

The sun didn't set at the correct time today, Carlos and his team of 'scientists' report. They are quite certain about it. They checked multiple sundials, and the sun set at a different time depending on where the sundial was placed. I asked them if they had any explanations, but they did not offer anything set in stone. Mostly they sat in a circle around a sundial, staring at it, murmuring and cooing. Still, we must be grateful to have the sun at all. It's easy to forget its existence in this cold, cold, cold island climate, but things would definitely be even harder for us without the sun. The next time the sun rises, whatever time that turns out to be, take a moment to feel grateful for all the warmth, and light, and heat our island community is gifted with.

-WtB-

The village chieftain would like to remind you about the Tiered Valhallas, and the Hierarchy of The Aesir. The reminder is that you should not know anything about this. The structure of Valhalla and the Aesiric organizational chart are privileged information known only to the village council members on a need-to-know basis. Please, do not speak to or acknowledge any visiting Aesir that you might come across while shopping at Ralph's or at the Wildflower Tavern and Brawling Ring. While in our world, they only tell lies, and are usually images created by Loki. Report all Aesir sightings to Stoick the Vast for treatment.

-WtB-

And now for a brief public service announcement. Sharks. Can they kill your children?

Yes.

Along those lines, to get personal for a moment, I think the best way to die would be swallowed by a giant squealer. Going feet first and whole into a slimy maw would give your life perfect symmetry, not to mention a fantastic story to tell in Valhalla!

-WtB-

Speaking of the Wildflower Tavern and Brawling Ring, its owner, Bearhead Williams, reports that he has found the entrance to a vast underground city under the fifth support pillar of the brawl ring. He said he has not yet ventured into it, merely peered down at its strange spires and broad avenues. He also reports voices of a distant crowd in the depths of that subterranean metropolis. Apparently, the entrance was discovered when an empty mug of mead rolled into it, clattering down to the city below with sounds that echoed for miles across the impossibly huge cavern - so, you know, whatever population that city has, they know about us now, and we might be hearing from them very soon.

-WtB-

Carlos, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier, but declined to stay for an interview. He had some sort of bubbling mixture in his hand, filled with parts of insects and birds. Said he was testing the place for materials. I don't know what materials he meant, but that mixture sure bubbled and whistled a lot. When he put it close to my speech writing desk it sounded like, well, like a bunch of baby birds had just woken up, really went crazy. Carlos looked nervous. I've never seen that kind of look on someone with that strong of a jaw. He left in a hurry. Told us to evacuate the building. But then, who would be here to write speeches to read to all of you out there? Settling in to be another raidless night and pretty evening here on Berk. I hope all of you out there have someone or something to sleep through it with, or, at least, good memories of when you did.

Good night, listeners. Good night.

-WtB-

Welcome to Berk is a fan-made tribute to both the universe of How To Train Your Dragon, owned by Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks Animation, and the universe of Welcome to Nightvale, owned by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor. The writer of Welcome to Berk claims no ownership of any characters, events, or locations used. The writer also claims no ownership of the published content, merely asking that it not be reposted without credits.

Welcome to Berk will not harm you. I hope. That's my goal.

Chapter Proverb: Look to the northwest. Keep looking. There's nothing coming from Helheim's Gate.

A/N:

Wow, this is the first thing I've ever published by way of writing. I've been writing a longer-form fanfiction for some time, but I won't publish that until it reaches a sufficient length. This, however, came to me in a burst of inspiration this morning, and I couldn't resist writing it. Four hours later, well, I hope you enjoyed!

EDIT A/N:

Sorry about the couple grammar errors that this quick chapter update cleared up. Also, I changed the thing Cecil wants to get swallowed by from a giant snake (c'mon, dragons man!) to a giant squealer (an incredibly slimy dragon from the book series that is a cross between a slug, snake, Thunderdrum and piranha.)

Thanks for reading!


	2. 2 - Glow Cloud

**Hi, this is not Joseph Fink. This is never Joseph Fink. Messages posted in this FanFiction can't ever be from him, because he isn't real, we think.**

 **Anyway, this is back. This is a thing. A second chapter! Who knew? I didn't. I discovered it last night. It crept up on me as I tried to get ready to become an unconscious thing, and kept me from doing that. So now it's here, to keep you all from being unconscious things.**

 **You're welcome.**

 **I don't know if this will continue, or if this is just another gasp of inspiration before I return to the endless slog of living my life. Who knows? I don't, not yet.**

 **Before we get on with whatever this thing is, I just want to thank you all for your support. It's that support that inspired me to put out a second chapter, all two of you that reviewed. Seriously, I don't know why I was so deeply touched. My heart hurts. My head hurts. You're all great.**

 **And hey, thanks.**

-WtB-

The ocean seems vast, even endless, and yet scientists tell us that somewhere, even now, there is land.

Welcome to Berk.

-WtB-

The Berk Tourism Board's Non-Threatening Berk campaign has kicked off with posters encouraging folks to take their family on a scenery-filled jaunt through the skies around Radon Canyon. Their slogan? "The view is literally breathtaking." Posters will be placed at great halls and smithees on nearby islands, along with promotional giveaways of masks and deerskin air bags.

-WtB-

And now, the news.

Have any of our listeners seen the glowing cloud that has been moving in from the west? Well, Jon Mynstur - you know, the farmer? - he saw it over the western sea stacks this morning, said he would have thought it was the setting sun if it wasn't for the time of day. Apparently the cloud glows in a variety of colors, perhaps changing from observer to observer, although all report a low whistling when it draws near. One death has already been attributed to the glow cloud. But listen, it's probably nothing. If we had to shut down the village for every mysterious event that at least one death could be attributed to, we'd never have time to do anything, right? That's what the dragon-riding teens are saying - excluding Hiccup, of course - and I agree. Although, I would not go so far as to endorse Fishlegs' suggestion to run directly at the cloud, shrieking and waving your arms, just to see what it does.

-WtB-

Mildew - and I remind you that this is that old man who literally wears dragonskin as clothes around dragons - has announced that he has found some disturbing evidence concerning the recent incident at the Berk Air-mail Office, which has been sealed by the village council since the great screaming that was heard from it a few weeks ago. He said that using ancient Viking magics he slipped through council security into the post office, and observed that all the letters and packages had been thrown about as in a whirlwind, that there was the heavy stench of scorched flesh, that the words written in blood on the wall said, "More to come, and soon." Can you believe this guy said he used Viking magics? We all know the only Viking with any kind of magics is old woman Gothi, who lives in the hut on the mountain. Man, Mildew is such an arse.

-WtB-

Here's something odd. There is a Smothering Smokebreath hovering in the men's outhouse next to my crier's podium here. He seems perfectly happy and healthy, but it's floating about four feet off the ground next to the sink. Doesn't seem to be able to move from its current hover spot. If you pet him, he purrs, and he'll rub on your body like a normal small-dragon if you get close enough. Fortunately, because he's right by the washbasin, it was pretty easy to leave some water and food where he could get it, and it's nice to have a crier pet. Wish it wasn't trapped in a hovering prison in the men's outhouse, but listen: no pet is perfect. It becomes perfect when you learn to accept it for what it is.

-WtB-

And now, a message from our sponsors.

I took a walk on the cool ocean waves, bubbling surf overflown, and above me the night sky, above me I saw. Bitter taste of scalding fire and a smell I could not place nor could I escape. I remembered other times that I could not escape. I remembered other smells. The moon slunk like a wounded animal. The world spun like it had lost control. Concentrate only on breathing, and let go of ideas you had about nutrition and Terror calls. I took a walk on the cool ocean waves, bubbling surf overflown, and above me the night sky, above me I saw.

This message was brought to you by Honey Mead: Mead with more Honey.

-WtB-

The village chieftain, in cooperation with agents from the vague, yet menacing, village council, is asking all citizens to stop by the Berk Dragon Academy tonight at sundown for a brief questionnaire about mysterious sights that definitely no one saw, and strange thoughts that in no way occurred to anyone, because all of us are normal, and to be otherwise would make us Outcasts from our own village. Remember: if you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget.

-WtB-

The Dragon Riders of Berk have announced some slight changes to their hierarchy, which will now be the following: Rider, Able Rider, Dragon Rider, Blood Pact Rider, Weird Rider, Dreadnought Rider, Dark Rider, Fear Rider, and finally, Eternal Rider. As always, signup is automatic and random, so please keep an eye out for the soot black envelope that will let you know you or your child has been chosen for the training.

-WtB-

This is probably nothing listeners, but Jon Mynstur - you know, the farmer - he reports that the Glow Cloud is directly over the village square, and appears to be raining small creatures upon the earth. Chickens, insects, a few birds - that kind of thing. Fortunately, the animals appear to be dead already, so the Dragon Riders said that it should be a snap to clean those up. They just have to be tossed on the eternal animal pyre in Mildew's field, so, if that's the worst the Glow Cloud has for us, I say go ahead and do your daily errands, citizens. Just bring along a good strong umbrella capable of handling falling animals up to, say, ten pounds. More on the Glow Cloud as it continues to crawl across our sky. And hey, here's a tip: take your kids out, and use the Cloud's constantly mutating hue to teach him or her the names of colors. It's fun, and it shows them the real-life applications of learning.

-WtB-

Alert: Astrid and the teens are searching for a fugitive named Hiram McDaniels, who escaped custody last night following an early evening arrest. McDaniels is described as a five-headed snaptrapper, approximately 18 paces tall, with mostly green eyes and weighing about 360 times Hiccup's weight. He is suspected of home repair claim fraud. McDaniels was forced to land for speeding last night, and Astrid became suspicious when he allegedly gave her a fake Rider's license for a five pace eight fingerwidth man named Frank Chen. After discerning that Frank Chen was actually a five-headed dragon from somewhere other than our little world, Astrid attempted to subdue McDaniels. Representatives from local dragon rights organizations have protested that she had no legal grounds to assault him, but they ceded the point when reminded by a member of the vague, yet menacing, village council that our backwards court system will uphold any old authoritarian rule made up on the fly by unsupervised crossbow-carrying thugs of a shadow of a tribe. Astrid says McDaniels escaped her custody by breathing fire from his purple head, and he was last seen flying and shrieking over Dragon Island. The teens are asking for tips leading to the containment of Hiram McDaniels. They remind you that, if seen, he should not be approached, as he is literally a five headed dragon. Contact the Berk Dragon Academy if you have any information. Ask for Astrid Hofferson. Helpful tipsters will earn one stamp on their stamping forearm forearm. Collect five stamps, and you get your dragon registered by name in the Book of Dragons!

-WtB-

And now, a look at the community calendar.

Saturday, Fishlegs' library of books will be unknowable. Citizens will forget the existence of the library from sunrise Saturday morning until midnight that night. The library will be under a sort of renovation. It is not important what kind of renovation.

Sunday is Dot Day! Remember, red dots on what you love, blue dots on what you don't. Mixing those up can cause permanent consequences.

Monday, Louse Blackshoe is offering panpipe lessons in the back of Louse's Music Shop. Of course, the shop burned down years ago, and Louse skipped town immediately after with what little the town could spare in his time of need, but he's sent word that you should bring your instrument to the crumbled ashy shell of where his shop once was, and pretend that he is there in the darkness teaching you. The price is a chicken's weight in fish per lesson, payable in advance.

Tuesday afternoon, join Mildew for a bake sale to support Citizens for a Human/Dragon war. Proceeds will go to support crossbow development and… Huh. I didn't think any humans were still at war with dragons. Oh well. Figures it would be Mildew.

Wednesday has been cancelled due to a scheduling error. It's Fishlegs' fault, Snotlout swears.

And on Thursday is a free concert. And…that's all it says here.

-WtB-

New call in from Jon Mynstur - you know, the farmer? Seems the Glow Cloud has doubled in size, enveloping all of Berk in its weird light and humming song. The ship gala administration has announced that they will be going ahead with the race, although there will be an awning built over the docks due to the increasing size of the animal corpses being dropped. I've had multiple reports that a Yak, like the kind you would see on the grassy slopes of the island, or a blood-stained table at the back of the local great hall, fell on top of Astrid's Mother's Yaknog shop. The shop is offering a free pitcher to anyone who can figure out how to get the thing off. So far, all citizens have continued to avoid the vicinity of the shop, in fear of the free samples.

-WtB-

The teens have apparently taken to shouting questions at the Glow Cloud, trying to ascertain what exactly it wants. So far, the Glow Cloud has not answered. The Glow Cloud does not need to converse with us. It does not feel as we tiny creatures feel. It has no need for thoughts or feelings of love. The Glow Cloud simply is. All hail the mighty Glow Cloud. All hail.

And now, slaves of the Cloud, the weather.

Bucket is slave to the Glow Cloud. We are all a slave to the Glow Cloud. The storms are the Glow Cloud.

-WtB-

Sorry, listeners. Not sure what happened in that earlier section of the speech. As in, I actually don't remember what happened. Tried to read my notes, but they're all blank, and smell faintly of vanilla.

The Glow Cloud, meanwhile, has moved on. It is now just a glowing spot in the distance, humming east to destinations unknown. We may never fully understand, or, understand at all what it was and why it dumped a lot of dead animals on our island. But, and I'm going to get a little personal here, that's the essence of life, isn't it? Sometimes you go through things that seem huge at the time, like a mysterious glowing cloud devouring your entire home, or a three hundred year war between species incited by one bad leader. While they're happening they feel like the only thing that matters, and you can hardly imagine that there's a world out there that might have anything else going on. And then the leader of your enemy is dead, or the Glow Cloud moves on. And you move on. And the event is behind you. And you may find that, as time passes, you remember it less and less - or not at all, in my case. And you are left with nothing but a powerful wonder at the fleeting nature of even the most important things in life, and the faint, but pretty, smell of vanilla.

-WtB-

Dear listeners, here is a list of things.

Emotions you don't understand upon viewing a sunset. Lost pets, found. Lost pets, unfound. A secret lost pet Asgard on the moon. Trees that see. Foods that hear. A void that thinks. A face half seen just before falling asleep. Trembling feet operating desperately mangled things. Fish. Silence when there should be noise. Noise when there should be silence. Nothing when you want something. Something when you thought there was nothing. Clear thin deerskin. Scented thick deerskin. Rain coming down on deerskin. Night. Rest. Sleep. End.

Goodnight, listeners. Goodnight.

-WtB-

 _Welcome to Berk is a fan-made tribute to both the universe of How To Train Your Dragon, owned by Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks Animation, and the universe of Welcome to Nightvale, owned by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor. The writer of Welcome to Berk claims no ownership of any characters, events, or locations used. The writer also claims no ownership of the published content, merely asking that it not be reposted without credits._

 _Welcome to Berk will not harm you._

Proverb: Men are from Odin; women are from Frigga; Midgard is a hallucination; dragons are dreams.

 **A/N:**

 **Yes, I did a Joseph Fink style pre-message. Couldn't resist. It says everything I want to say, so I guess all I can do is repeat it. I don't know if this will continue further, and you're all great.**

 **And hey, thanks.**


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